


The Soul of Fen'Harel

by antebellum13



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 23:44:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15829359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antebellum13/pseuds/antebellum13
Summary: She met Fen'Harel in the forest when she was only a child. Through the years, he was her mentor, teaching her everything about the old ways. As she grew older, their relationship shifted. The child became a woman and Fen'Harel's right hand in his quest to restore what once was.The first several chapters will take place in the decade leading up to DA:I. The rest will take place during the Inquisition, and possibly beyond. How will knowing Fen'Harel's identity and purpose change the fate of the Inquisition?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! Thanks for having a look and I hope this first chapter piques your interest.
> 
> Updates may be slow going as I work on my nursing degree. However, I will try to update at least once a week or every other week at the latest.
> 
> The inspiration for this story came from a couple different kink memes, which I won't share until later since they'll ruin my plot. It's been a long time since I wrote anything for DA, but I've been reading some new stories and started yet another play-through and I'm really feeling the urge to write something.
> 
> I will be adding archive warnings and tags later, as well as changing the rating to Explicit when the time is right, which probably won't be too long since I don't intend for this to be a slow burn in the beginning. It'll probably be a slow burn later on, but you'll have to wait and find out why!

The cool water washed across his tongue and down his parched throat. His dark grey fur, almost black in the waning light, glistened beside the stream from which he drank. Somewhere behind him, he heard leaves shifting, a soft sigh of green flesh against fabric, and he turned. Startled silver-grey eyes met his icy blue ones and he let out a huff of laughter. Her face turned to annoyance and she loped over to his side, sprawling ungracefully on the bank of the creek.

“I thought I’d had you that time, Fen,” the girl said, irritation tinging her melodic voice. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly through her nostrils. “Fen?” she inquired as she rolled over onto her stomach.

“Yes, dalen?” his soft, warm voice answered. She opened her eyes to look at the wolf, but he was no longer a wolf. Instead, he was the Elvhen man she had met so many years ago. His head was tilted slightly to the side, his gaze quizzical.

“I do not want to grow up,” she said softly, closing her eyes once more. Fen chuckled, the sound a deep rumble in his chest.

“It is not so bad,” he said teasingly, giving her hair a playful ruffle. “But what is it in particular that you do not wish of adulthood?” When the girl did not answer but instead averted her eyes, he reached out and gently pulled her chin toward him so that she was looking directly at him. “Ellena? What troubles you?”

“Tomorrow, I come of age,” she said quietly. Fen’s eyebrows drew together; clearly, he did not see the problem. “They will want me to choose my vallaslin.”

Fen’s eyes grew instantly stormy. His face hardened, all previous playfulness gone. He pulled his hand away from Ellena and looked away, over the stream and out into the wilderness, seeing nothing and seeing everything all at once.

“See what I mean?” Ellena sighed again and sat up, crossing her legs in front of her. “I don’t know whose I should take. If _you_ had one, I would take yours, of course. I suppose Ghilan’nain’s is simple and pretty enough, but if we’re speaking strictly in terms of who is the most deserving, I suppose Mythal will have to—ouch!” She looked at Fen in bewilderment, who now held her wrist tightly in his hand.

“Is that what you think I want of you? You think I wish for you to be my _slave_?” His voice was sharp and corrosive, anger lacing each syllable like acid on his tongue. Ellena shook her head desperately.

“No, Fen, of course not! I only meant that since I have to choose one, I wish it could be you!”

“ _Have_ to? Have you no choice in the matter? Will they tie you down and force the ink upon your bare skin? Will they take away your freedom with no care about what _you_ want?”

“Well…no, they wouldn’t force me. But—” She hesitated, unsure of how to phrase her thoughts.

“But?” Fen prompted, his grip tightening ever so slightly. She winced but otherwise did not protest.

“But they will disown me. I will not be Dalish to them, I will be no better than a bare-faced city elf.” At this, her eyes welled up with tears and she looked away, ashamed to let Fen see her cry for the first time in a decade, when he had first found her alone in the woods after her parents’ deaths. His fingers loosened and dropped away as he sighed deeply. He reached up to brush a lock of her midnight hair from her eyes.

“I would not wish you to be chained. Even if it does not mean what it once did, I would know. _You_ would know.”

“But you could just remove them, couldn’t you?”

“I could, yes. But that is not the point, dalen.” Ellena’s lip puckered out in a pout at the endearment.

“I’m not a child anymore, Fen. In a few short hours, I will be a woman.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a huff and rolled her eyes.

“You are a child to me, Ellena. I may look like I am only in my thirties or forties, but you know that I am much older than that. Everyone is a child to me, even the oldest of your hahrens.”

“So, what, will I never be anything more than a petulant infant to you?” Ellena harrumphed, watching Fen sideways out of her narrowed eyes.

“Of course not, Ellena. Only when you behave as you are now.”

Ellena opened her mouth to retort but then she caught sight of the slight upturn in Fen’s lips. Her hardened demeanor softened and the will to argue rushed out of her all at once. She let her hands fall to her lap.

“What if I want to be more to you?”

He almost didn’t hear her; her voice was low. For one breathless moment, he gazed at her still form, her hair hanging down, covering her face as she stared into her lap.

“And what is it you want to be to me?” he asked, his voice barely above a murmur. He was unprepared when she looked up with fire in her eyes. He was unprepared when she reached out and grabbed his tunic, closing the gap between them in one swift motion. He was unprepared when her lips crashed into his and her free hand tangled into his braided locks. He was unprepared for the surge of _need_ coursing through him and the sudden betraying urgency with which he kissed her back.

_No._ It could not be this way. It was inappropriate. She was too young, and he—he was much too old. She knew what he had to do, what path he must walk. She would understand, someday. _In another world…_ As soon as the thought came to his mind, he stiffened and placed his hands on her shoulders. He pushed against her gently, but she was oblivious. Finally, he sent a low jolt of electricity into her body, causing her to gasp and jerk away.

“Fen, I—I’m so sorry!” She clapped her hands to her mouth as her cheeks flamed red and her eyes filled with tears once more, and before he could say anything, before he could stop her, she was sprinting away through the dusk-soaked forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I think of what Fen'Harel looks like at this time, [this image](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/74/ec/93/74ec93776d54550913cd7ff495c7c48b.png) comes to mind. In modern times, however, he has shed the pretty armor and jewelry. He looks like his usual pale-skinned hobo self, but with hair.


	2. Chapter 2

The day passed without incident. Fen made contact with several of his splinter groups through the Eluvian that rested in a hidden cave within the forest, but otherwise spent much of his time padding up and down the bank of the stream near Ellena’s aravel. One of two things would occur that day. Either Ellena would be ousted from her clan, or she would take up Mythal’s vallaslin. After last night, he was certain what she would choose, but something told him to stay nearby.

He had spent much of the night after she had left thinking. Thinking of what was, what could have been, and what could never be. The kiss wasn’t entirely a surprise to him. Over the last several years, from around when she reached puberty until the present day, he had seen a change in the way she looked at him. Her eyes frequently lingered on his lips, his hands, and even, once or twice, the place where his legs met.

But, perhaps ignorantly, he had brushed the attentions aside, certain she would never act upon her misguided inner desires. He was her mentor and she was his protégé, never mind the small fact that there was a several-thousand-year age difference between them. Even if there hadn’t been, he had the body of a man nearing middle age and she was a teenager. He had never thought of her in any way other than as his pupil—at least not until last night.

Her kiss had been sweet, and she had tasted sweeter. He had not been intimate with anyone in over a millennium. It bothered Fen’Harel that he had enjoyed the kiss. It bothered him even more that he wanted to do it again. Those sorts of dangerous temptations could never be given into, however. Fen’Harel had a duty to fix what he had broken. A relationship with a quickling would only serve to set his plans back for several decades, and that was precious time he could not waste.

No, Ellena was destined for a man who could give her what she needed, not a man who could only offer fleeting distractions. And children—Fen’s heart squeezed painfully at the thought—he could never father a child. He could not bring a child into a world of chaos, a world where the spirits were held back by the skies. Once the Veil was brought down, he could not bring a child into a world where he would be dead, unable to watch it grow, unable to shape its worldviews. Ellena would undoubtedly want children someday, and he could not— _would_ not—provide that.

He was fortunate that Clan Lavellan was more or less stationary. They had claimed this small piece of forest for themselves and the humans did not bother them; rather, the humans and the elves traded with each other frequently, creating an alliance of sorts. When he had first happened upon the clan, he had been debating whether or not to approach them—he hadn’t had luck with any of the other clans he’d approached—when he came upon the child leaning against a tree, her knees tucked up against her body and her arms wrapped around them, sobbing quietly into them.

_“Child, why do you weep?” Fen’Harel the wolf asked. Eyes as big as saucers and the color of moonlight stared up at him from over the knees she kept close to her body._

_“Who—who are you?” she asked in a tear-soaked voice. It surprised him that she was not concerned about the fact that a talking wolf stood before her. Fen’Harel sat back on his haunches and tilted his head at her, deciding at that moment to tell her the truth._

_“I am Fen’Harel, come to restore the elves to their rightful place.” The child hiccupped at his name but remained unblinking and unflinching._

_“Have you caught my scent, Dread Wolf? Have you come to take me away?” Her voice was small but strong. An idea was forming in Fen’Harel’s mind. She was young, impressionable. He could teach her everything._

_“No, little one. I would never take you away. Now come, tell me what creates your sorrow.”_

And so he had watched her grow. He had taught her everything she wanted to know and everything she could ever need to know—and probably some things she didn’t need to know—about his past and the history of the Elvhen civilization. Once she was more mature and could handle deeper topics, he even told her about his locked foci and his plans to take down the Veil.

Never once did she falter in her faith of him. Never once did she question his motives. She simply accepted him at face value—something many of the Dalish clans he had previously encountered were unwilling to do. She knew who and what he was, and yet somehow, she was still here. She did not share in the beliefs of her clan about the dread wolf Fen’Harel. She did not share in many of the beliefs of her clan, for she knew they spoke the falsehoods of truth twisted into fairytales. She did not blame them; after all, they only recited what they themselves had been told. But neither could she completely forgive their ignorance and their unyielding, stubborn views.

And now today, she was of age. Nineteen in this particular clan, a bit older than most of the other clans, at least of the few he had come upon in his travels. This clan believed that with age came wisdom, and they were not eager for their children to grow so quickly.

A sound pulled him from his musings. It was light, soft as a whisper and several meters away. He turned toward the sound and there she was, bare-faced and arms full of belongings. Her eyes were red, although she was not crying. Wordlessly, he stood before her, Elvhen form once more, and wrapped his arms around her. He did not ask and she did not tell, so he led her off into the woods, to the place he had made his home, and tucked her in for the night.

Once he was certain she was asleep, he crept back to her clan’s aravel in wolf form. It was quiet, although several figures could still be seen around the fires that dotted the camp here and there. Fen slinked closer to the nearest one and listened.

“—don’t understand, Keeper. Why wouldn’t she want her vallaslin? I can’t wait until _I_ come of age. I want June’s marks! Or maybe Elgar’nan!” a young elven boy reverently enthused, looking up into a wizened woman’s face. The woman, _Keeper_ , she was called, hushed the boy.

“She may yet return, child. Do not fret. Now, why don’t you go find your mamae? It is nearing your bedtime, I’m sure.” The boy groaned, distracted by the unwelcome prospect of going to bed, and loped off to find his mother. Another woman, older than Ellena but not by much, sat down in his vacated space. The staff across her back told Fen she was likely this clan’s First.

“Keeper Deshanna, what will happen to Ellena? Why did you force her to leave?” the woman said in a surprisingly gravelly voice, given her small and graceful form. Deshanna looked at her sharply.

“I did not ask her to leave. _She_ came to _us_ and told us she was leaving, that she did not want to be tied down by the vallaslin.” The First looked confused and opened her mouth to question Deshanna but was cut off. “When we asked her what she meant by that, she said only that the markings did not mean what we thought they meant and that she refused to become anyone’s slave. She took her leave before we could question her further, but…”

The old woman sighed and stared into the flickering fire where the flames lapped at the air and danced toward the sky. The other woman waited patiently, her attention focused solely on her mentor.

“This behavior has me worried. She has always been a little different, at least since her parents died. I fear the Dread Wolf has caught Ellena’s scent. What other explanation could there be? It’s possible he has visited her in the Fade and corrupted her mind.” The First gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

“Could she be possessed?” the First finally asked once she had controlled her hyperventilating.

The Keeper pondered for a moment, then said, “No. If she were possessed, would the demon not have wished to stay here, where it could feast upon us all? No. I fear that if and when she does return, Fen’Harel will be close behind her and then we will all be doomed. It would be easier if she _were_ possessed. Demons would be an easier threat to deal with than the Great Betrayer.”

Fen had heard enough of the ludicrous lies the short-sighted woman was telling her First. He turned angrily and stalked back off into the darkness. Yes, he had taken to Ellena like he hadn’t taken to anyone in thousands of years. But there was no precedent for modern day elves to believe Fen’Harel caught the scent of anyone at all, let alone a single child alone in the woods. He had taken care of her when no one else had. He had been her mentor, her sole source of information for all the questions this pathetic Dalish clan could not and would not answer adequately. Ellena was better off without their influence, although he would keep that particular thought to himself for the time being. The next few months would be the hardest of her life.

He returned to his quarters after some time and fell asleep on the rug next to his bed where Ellena slumbered, slipping easily into the Fade.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's really no excuse for me dropping off the face of the planet like that. Things got busy and stressful for me at work. I started school back up so I can work toward getting a Master's. And it's just hard to find the motivation to keep it going. But this story has a special place in my heart. I have a general outline already written and saved and the idea of continuing the story has been nagging at me. I can't promise any regular updates, but I promise I will see this through to the end, even if it takes me 5 years. Without further ado, here is Chapter 3. More to follow in the future!

When Ellena awoke the next day, it was to Fen busying himself with breakfast. He turned, holding two dishes full of what appeared to be various fruits, cheeses, and nuts. A pleasant smile broke out over his face as Ellena rubbed the sleep from her eyes. He proffered one of the dishes toward her and she took it gratefully, her stomach grumbling.

“Thanks, Fen. You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” she mumbled around a mouthful of sweet grapes and brie.

“You will need your energy today. It is time your education took a more practical route,” Fen said, giving her a long look until she looked away, her ears tingeing pink. She set her bowl down and looked bashfully away, at anything other than him.

“Fen, I—about last night, I mean. I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.” She met his eyes briefly before she glanced away again.

There was a slight pause, then Fen said, “There is nothing to apologize for, Ellena. We have spent many years together. Sometimes these things are unavoidable. Never apologize for having feelings. There are far too many in your world and in mine who lack the ability to feel.”

Ellena was silent for a moment, then nodded brusquely before grabbing her bowl and continuing her meal.

“Now,” Fen said, wiping his hands on a cloth and pulling a chair from the small table in the corner so it was directly across from where Ellena sat perched on his bed. He sat down on it and set his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers together. “Tell me what you remember of my teachings about the Eluvians.”

The next few hours were spent going over the intricacies of the expansive Eluvian network. Ellena grasped the knowledge with the finesse Fen had come to expect of her. She was bright and intelligent, but not haughty or arrogant about it and was ever full of questions, which he was only too pleased to answer. When he was satisfied that Ellena retained all the essentials regarding the Eluvians, he stood and beckoned for her to follow.

“We will need to make you presentable,” Fen said, glancing down at Ellena’s wrinkled, filthy tunic. A blush crept up her cheeks.

“Ah. Yes, that would be welcome,” she said, clearing her throat. “I do feel rather atrocious at the moment.” She smiled ruefully at Fen and the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?”

He led her some ten or fifteen yards away from his little single-room hut to a massive outcropping of stone buried partially in the banks of a large stream. Confused, she turned to Fen. He didn’t honestly expect her to strip down right here in front of him, did he?

Fen’s eyes twinkled merrily as he placed a hand against the granite. She watched in astonishment as it shimmered beneath his palm and finally flickered out, leaving a dark entrance where solid rock once stood. Fen waved his hand and torches lit instantly along the walls, leading down into the earth.

“Shall we?” Fen said, subdued laughter tingeing his voice. Ellena, still gaping at the display of magic, merely nodded and followed Fen down into the passageway. The stairway was long and winding, looping in several places and meandering in others. For as long as it was, however, it only took a few minutes to reach the bottom. The room opened up into an intricately tiled room with two separate doorways. Large wooden doors sealed off both rooms, each with a different mosaic built into the wood with tiny square tiles.

“This is beautiful, Fen. How old is this place?”

“Ancient,” he said. “This was a servant bathhouse. Pretty, but nothing like the opulent grandeur my cousins were used to. Still, I find it more suited to my taste. I was never one to tolerate frivolity for the sake of frivolity. That said, I do have something of a soft spot for a hot bath and found rinsing off in a cold stream to be rather unpleasant.” Fen stepped toward one of the doors and glanced back, gesturing toward the other door. “That is the women’s side. Please, take all the time you need. There are several garments in there you may find to your liking as well.”

Ellena slipped inside the room, letting the door fall back into place behind her. The air was humid but pleasant against her skin. A large oval-shaped bath sunk into the floor a few feet away. Moaning with the anticipation of the bath before her, she quickly stripped and slipped into the heated pool.

When Ellena emerged some time later, she found Fen leaning casually against the wall. She beamed at him and nodded before they turned to head out the way they had come in.

“I approve of your choice of outfit,” Fen said casually, still looking ahead. Ellena’s cheeks flamed again as she examined herself in the daylight. She had chosen a tunic of deep emerald, tied with light tan belt and coupled with brown leggings of leather so soft she thought she would cry when she put them on.

“Thank you, Fen. The choices were all lovely. It was difficult to choose just one,” Ellena said shyly. Fen smiled, still looking ahead.

“Come, the Eluvian is not far from here.”

They walked for perhaps half a kilometer through the woods, along the bottom of a high reaching rocky hill. When they stopped, they stood before another stone outcropping, similar to the one the baths were hidden beneath. Fen opened the hidden door and the pair stepped inside. The stairs to the bottom were much longer than the ones to the bath, and after ten minutes on them Ellena found herself wondering if they would reach the center of the world before long. Finally, after another few minutes had passed, they reached flat ground.

The floor and walls were not dissimilar to the bathhouse’s, but somehow more opulent and detailed. Glittering silver and golden mosaic tiles flowed in and out of the other, more muted colors of their brethren. The hall they stood in was several paces wide and three times as long. At the end stood a magnificent mirror, at least ten feet in height and a half as much wide. The ornate silver frame twinkled at the pair, almost as if it were aware of their presence and was beckoning them forward.

“I never thought to see one in my lifetime. After all the lessons I’ve had with you, Fen, I still thought it an impossible dream that I would not live to see.” Ellena’s gaze was glued to the mirror as she addressed Fen. She took a step forward, her legs moving of their own accord. “All this time,” she breathed, “and it was right here in the forest.” She took another step forward.

“You asked me once if I had come to take you away. I made a promise to you in that moment that I would never take you away. Had I shown you this mirror all those years ago, would you have left your clan behind to travel the world with me?” Fen was gazing directly at Ellena now, at her slightly unfocused eyes and breathless wonder.

She shook herself and turned to Fen. “I think I would have,” she said finally, meeting his gaze.

“I never wished to influence your decision to leave in such a direct manner. I was content to teach you the old ways. Should a time ever come that you wished to leave, I wanted it to be of your own volition and not because of any promises of grandeur I made to you.”

Ellena chuckled softly as her gaze fell from Fen’s eyes. “Well, I left. And it was my decision to do so. But you cannot deny that you did play a small role in my leaving. Had I not known the significance of the vallaslin, I doubt I would have chosen to stay bare-faced and free.”

Fen hummed thoughtfully in a low voice. “You are correct,” he said as he reached out to lift Ellena’s chin, forcing her gaze to meet his again. “But I would have it no other way. You deserved to know. All your people deserve to know. But you are the only one who wanted to listen, so I admit I have lavished my knowledge upon you more than I would had I been teaching your entire clan.”

Ellena’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Please,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Do you really think Deshanna would ever listen to the Dread Wolf? She would rather poison us all in our sleep than live to see you impart your lies and trickeries upon the innocent and unsuspecting.”

Fen’s eyes flashed and he reached out to give Ellena a small shove, but she danced away and bounded toward the mirror. Glancing behind her, she called, “Are you coming, hahren? For I wish to see the world!”

They stood before the mirror a moment later, Ellena slightly out of breath but Fen tall and calm as ever. The laughter was gone from Ellena’s face as she stared with incredulity at the swirling silver patterns of the mirror’s surface. Fen reached a hand out and murmured a phrase, his intonation too low for her to make out the words. The silver suddenly flashed bright blue as it came to life beneath Fen’s outstretched hand.

Turning to Ellena, he put the same hand out to her. She hesitantly placed her own into the proffered palm and they turned to face the mirror together. Taking a deep breath, they stepped into the whirling blue light and disappeared from the cavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who had subscribed before, thanks for coming back. To any newcomers, welcome! I hope I can be a more fit author from here on out!


End file.
